He looked back at the camp. Shadows moved between the tents. He counted at least three figures—possibly more. One carried something long, probably a rifle. Caleb ducked lower and moved behind a snow mound.
His breath quickened. Whatever he did next, he had to be careful. The walrus had brought him here for a reason. And it wasn’t over yet. Caleb crawled forward, keeping low behind the drift. The wind masked the sound of his movement, but his heart still pounded with every inch. He stopped at the edge of the mound and peered over it again.